Devastate- to lay waste, render desolate, to overwhelm
Impact- the striking of one thing against another, forceful contact, collision
Being the Florida girl I am, I cannot count the times when I was threatened with a similar "devastating impact". In fact, one of my earliest memories is of playing in the puddles left behind by the outer bands of Hurricane Andrew. To me, "devastating impact" is almost a joke. A threat that is made but never followed through on; an excuse to take the day off; a shattering instant for some much to close.
I have been desensitized to hurricanes, because really- they have never been real, they've always only been a concept.
Throughout all my hurricane memories one thing is consistent: I was not afraid. In fact, much like that first memory of Hurricane Andrew, I can remember playing in the rain through Hurricanes Jeanne, Dennis, Ivan, Georges.. The list goes on and on.
Even though the orange and red cone was laying directly over my state, my city, my HOME, I was never scared or worried a storm would hit. Though I hate to admit it, I might even say I wanted one to hit. I don't know what would have caused me to feel this way, or really even that I understood what I was feeling. The idea of that devastating impact was so close, I think I just wanted to feel it for myself.
In 2004, Hurricane Charley made landfall twenty-seven miles from my house. We watched the weather channel as the projected path, just moments from being true, forecasted that the category 4 storm was going to hit us. We watched as the storm jutted into the harbor. We watched as we were spared by centimeters on that little green map, all the while thanking God for protecting us, and inadvertently being grateful for the catastrophe that was effecting others.
Those "others" who had once been people who I almost connected with were suddenly people I knew. People I worked with and saw on an almost daily basis were thoroughly destroyed by something that I nearly wished on myself; on my friends and on my family. Devastating Impact was no longer a concept; it was a real and true force, something I had experienced.
I drove around and saw the damage, awestruck by the power of the storm. I volunteered and handed out supplies to victims, saddened for their loss and moved by their courage. I beat myself up, horrified that I could have, even at my young and inexperienced age, wished for something like that to happen to me.
2004 was a terrifying year to be a Floridian as four major storms affected the state. I spent that fall wondering how I would ever be able to reconcile my emotions with my past thoughts; sure that I was a terrible person, and wondering if somehow I was responsible. But with time (and age) we grow and mature. We begin to see things more clearly, to understand them better. I was able to see my curiosity about something so deeply connected to my life was not the same as wishing it on myself or others. I began to reconcile those images of splashing puddles and splintered houses, finally able to fall back into a reverent respect for Mother Nature's power, balanced with a dose of fear and a dash of unconcern.
As Hurricane Irene prepares to make her devastating impact on the United States, as our country once again prepares to have part of it's shores battered and bruised by wind and rain, I am as always reminded of my yellow raincoat and the way the rain drops bounced off of it as I hopped around in the drizzle. But the haunting image of the snapped tree trunks hasn't escaped me either.
As the Northeast coast begins to prepare for the arrival of Irene my thoughts and prayers are with them.
